Battlescars and shooting stars
by Quezacolt
Summary: Jack O'Neill's clone ponders about his life as a clone...


Battle Scars and Shooting Stars 

_I don't need to be anything other  
Than a prison guard's son  
I don't need to be anything other  
Than a specialist's son  
I don't have to be anyone other  
Than the birth of two souls in one_

_  
Part of where I'm going, is knowing where I'm coming from  
I don't want to be  
Anything other than what I've been trying to be lately  
All I have to do  
Is think of me and I have peace of mind_

_I'm tired of looking 'round rooms  
Wondering what I've got to do  
Or who I'm supposed to be  
I don't want to be anything other than me_

_I'm surrounded by liars everywhere I turn  
I'm surrounded by imposters everywhere I turn  
I'm surrounded by identity crisis everywhere I turn  
Am I the only one who noticed?  
I can't be the only one who's learned_

Once apon a time in a small town on a totally different planet…Okay, so that isn't the way to start this story. I just need to put my mind to it and I can come up with a great beginning. Right? Wrong. There is no happy beginning to this story. This story begins in the middle of death and destruction. In the middle of heart break and torture…that's right. Geometry. Hell on Earth. But don't be put off just from the beginning. That's right. It might be horrible, but the hero always has to survive. I wouldn't have it any other way.  
Okay, so here is the story. The real one.  
My eyes traveled the page. Geometry. It couldn't get any harder then this. This latest exam was killing me. 'Write a story on the life you wish to have'. Can they come up with anything more lame? Yeah, well, apparently not. I pick up my pen knowing I'm going to write a great story on my dreams. On what I wish I have. What I did have, once apon a time.

It all started in the middle of last year. I woke up, just like I have every morning for the last forty or so years. That's right. I was an adult. I woke up, threw on some clothes and went to work, or the SGC as I call it. Stargate command. My strange day had only just begun. I drove to work, receiving strange stares off other motorists. Strange. People were getting stranger. I parked in my usual spot and leapt out of the cab of my truck, yet the ground was further away then I had originally thought.

I walked to the entrance, and flashed my key card, only to be arrested by some cocky SF's. They refused to see my authority, and all I could think of was reporting their damn asses to Hammond and having them fired. And they threw me in a cell. The nerve. It was then they threw me a mirror. I saw my face for the first time. I was a freak. I was…young. I was a sixteen year old Jack O'Neill.

Things had suddenly taken a twist. Hammond, Carter and Daniel all came and spoke to me, not believing I was really a Colonel. And there began my life as it is now. As a youngster. They wouldn't even let me have beer. I ran away and they were right behind me. They were going to use me as bait. BAIT! I was a human, even if I was a clone. I had rights. Right? Well, anyway. As I said, I ran away. Ran for me life more like. I was dying. I wasn't going to spend the last of my life hanging around and being used as bait to get the other O'Neill who stole my life back. Let them do it themselves.

But things got a little complicated. I couldn't buy beer. A life without beer wasn't a life worth living. And then they found me.  
SG-1 found me. I knew they would eventually, but did they have to at that moment? But, I went back with them anyway. I went and I let them use me as bait. So we were on the ship. With the Asgard saying there was nothing he could do, I should be destroyed, yadda yadda yadda. Save the clap trap for Asgard council. I had grim satisfaction knowing the Asgard was going to get punished. And I enjoyed for a moment thinking up punishments. But the other one agreed to fix me. Thor. Good ol' Thor. Can't thank him enough.

So here I am, watching Jack O'Neill's truck drive away. My life begins here. My new life.

Change can be for better right? Now's the time to prove that theory right.

Jack O'Neill

But this story goes against everything I promised I would keep secret when I left the SGC. I tear up the paper and throw it in the bin next to me.  
Staring at a new piece, I once again pick up my pencil.

_One apon a time, on another planet, four great heroes protected the universe from a universal plague of parasites. Their names were unimportant, but it was important to know they had the luck of every shooting star that flew through the sky. Their faces and hearts were covered with battlescars, but their looks, brains and bravery were legendary. They were WH-1. Wormhole one. From a top secret mountain, were space ships were built and wormholes were created…_

_I don't want to be  
Anything other than what I've been trying to be lately  
All I have to do  
Is think of me and I have peace of mind _

_I'm tired of looking 'round rooms  
Wondering what I've got to do  
Or who I'm supposed to be  
I don't want to be anything other than me _

_Can I have everyone's attention please?  
If you're not like this and that, you're gonna have to leave  
I came from the mountain  
The crust of creation  
My whole situtaion-made from clay to stone  
And now I'm telling everybody _

_I don't want to be  
Anything other than what I've been trying to be lately  
All I have to do  
Is think of me and I have peace of mind_

_  
I'm tired of looking 'round rooms  
Wondering what I've got to do  
Or who I'm supposed to be  
I don't want to be anything other than me  
I don't want to be _

**Finis**


End file.
